


Curriculum

by Jo (jmathieson)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1000-word Drabble, Alternate Professions, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Phil chat in the staff room at luchtime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curriculum

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a bit of writer's block, so The Husband gave me a prompt: High School teachers. I almost never write alternate profession AUs, but this happened...

Phil Coulson flopped into a chair and loosened his tie. He pulled a brown paper bag out of his satchel and spilled the contents out onto the table in front of him with a sigh.

"Long day?"

He looked up from his lunch to see a small smirk on Clint Barton's face. It was only noon, but yes, it had already been a long day.

"Yes. I had two of my most difficult classes in a row this morning: the remedial History class and Grade Ten English."

"You have my sympathy. I can see how remedial History would suck pretty bad, but I thought you liked teaching English?"

Phil carefully schooled his face to keep one eyebrow from arching up. He hadn't realized that Jackson High's nominally famous gym teacher paid enough attention to one Phil Coulson to know what he liked teaching.

"Normally I do. I like helping then learn to express themselves with the written word. I enjoy helping the kids to find a genre of book they enjoy, whether it's science fiction or crime thrillers or comic books."

"You let your kids read comics?"

"If that's what will get them reading, yes. I make them do the same book reports and character motivation analysis as they'd do for a novel. I figure it's better than having them turn off reading altogether, and they can learn just as much about protagonists and story structure from The Sandman or V for Vendetta as they can from the latest Stephen King thriller. Besides, some of the comics today have more hard-hitting political commentary than the newspapers."

"And also, you were a total comic book nerd as a kid." Clint grinned widely at him, taking his feet off the table and folding up the sports section of the newspaper he had been reading. 

"How did..." Coulson stopped. The vintage 'Captain America' t-shirt he'd worn on the school's recent 'casual dress for charity day' had outed him pretty thoroughly. He didn't blush. He did look down at his lunch, though, and start to unwrap his egg-salad sandwich.

"So what went wrong in English class today?"

"Nothing went wrong, exactly, it's just that I have to assign their required 'literary texts' this week. Have you seen the recommended list of works? No, of course you wouldn't have. None of them have any relevance to these kids' lives! Oedipus Rex, Antigone, Tartuffe, for God's sake! How the hell am I supposed to explain 17th century French culture well enough that they have the first clue about what's going on in the play? The Metamorphosis. Can you see me trying to teach Franz Kafka to a bunch of fifteen-year-olds who've never even been outside the United States?"

"No, I can't, but I can definitely see your problem. Let me see the list?"

Phil pulled a sheet of paper out of his satchel and slid it across the table. He ate his soggy sandwich while Clint read the list of 'Recommended Literary Works'."

Clint got to the end of the list and whistled.

"Well, you don't have a lot of choice here, but can I make a suggestion?"

"I'm all ears."

"Give them a choice between Cyrano de Bergerac and The Count of Monte Cristo. Most of the girls will go for the romance, and most of the boys for the swashbuckler, but that's probably not a big deal." He looked up and Phil shook his head. His class splitting along gender lines in their choice of reading material was nothing new.

"They both have enough plot to keep most of the kids from falling asleep, and both have excellent movies that you can show them part way through the semester, and they can talk about how the film is different from the book and why."

Clint had pulled his chair a little closer to Phil's, and was waving his hands as he talked animatedly, trying to convince Phil that his plan was sound.

Phil found himself watching Clint's face as much as listening to his words. He'd always found the ex-Olympic archer attractive, who wouldn't, but he hadn't thought about it any further than that, not until now. Not until he discovered (was discovering) that there was a keen intellect to go along with the sparkling blue-gray eyes and obscenely well-muscled shoulders.

"That's, ah..." Phil stammered as he realized that Clint had stopped talking and was waiting for him to reply, "That's really a very good idea. Thanks."

"Your welcome. Glad I could help."

"You, ah... you've read them? Cyrano and Monte Cristo?" Phil was surprised, but them felt bad for asking; realizing that the question implied that Clint hadn't read the classics.

"I have a full degree from Teacher's College. I know a lot more than just the offside rule in soccer."

"Sorry... sorry, that was... stupid of me to say."

"That's okay. I know most people see me as just a jock. It's fun to surprise them, sometimes."

Phil looked down again, suddenly shy under the gaze of Clint's bright eyes and full smile. He toyed with his packet of Oreo cookies.

"Here, try one of these instead." Clint was pulling a small plastic bag out of his own packed lunch and offering Phil what looked like a home-made chocolate-chip cookie.

"You bake?" Phil blurted, unable to stop himself.

"Just as a hobby." It was Clint's turn to blush.

"No, it's great, that is..." Phil was stammering again, "I think that's really... uh... neat. You baking, I mean." Phil was kicking himself again. He was acting like one of his students - stammering and blushing and saying the wrong thing just because Clint Barton was suddenly, surprisingly, paying attention to him.

"Really?" Clint looked up, right into Phil's earnest eyes.

"Yes, really."

Phil bit into the chocolate chip cookie and managed not to moan. Something told him that he'd be chatting with Clint in the staff room a lot more often over the next few days, and with any luck, outside it, too.


End file.
